Oral Fixation
by AlphabetNumberSymbol
Summary: Takeshi had always been the quietly observant type, so when he notices something interesting about Hayato, he wonders why it took him so long. 59x80, YamaGoku, however you wanna put it. Oneshot.


**A/N: So, uh, this happened. I heart me some good ol' 5980, and so that's what you're gonna get. Hope you like it.**

**Anywho~, enjoy!**

* * *

It started out as something subliminal. Just one of those things that you see and file away in the back of your mind, but never really notice. Takeshi has always been the quietly observant type, something Reborn had once told him would come in handy.

Right now, he was busy observing the way Hayato would often bite on something-anything-when he was puzzling something out. It seemed like a subconscious tick of the silverette's. Something that only ever surfaced when his focus was on his train of thought and nothing else. His body would automatically search for something to put in his mouth. A cigarette, a pen. Sometimes he would resort to chewing on the skin of his thumb or his lips, if nothing else was available.

Takeshi watched, with surprising interest, as Hayato nibbled away at his thumbnail, mumbling to himself as he sorted through his notes. How had he never noticed it before? Never noticed how graceful Hayato's hands were, with long, almost delicate fingers that were counterbalanced by the presence of thick calluses. Hadn't seen the way Hayato's pink lips would wrap around whatever he was mouthing, the occasional glimpse of bright white teeth showing through if he was chewing on a pen or, god forbid, his lips.

Takeshi hadn't noticed before, but he certainly couldn't unsee it, now that he had. Couldn't unthink his unbidden thoughts-how it might feel to bite those lips himself. He wasn't so much displeased at the idea, as he was uncertain. Uncertain that Hayato thought those kinds of thoughts. Uncertain that if he acted on his own thoughts, Hayato might very well actually hate him-for all his bickering, Hayato was rarely legitimately angered by Takeshi.

Despite his doubts, Takeshi often thought about how nice it would be, if Hayato felt the same. How nice it would be to have that mouth on his, those lips and teeth and tongue working against his own instead of a cigarette or the cap of a pen.

So, he watched. Completely enraptured, if he were to be honest. Eyes following the way Hayato's lips parted softly around his thumb. The way his teeth clamped down on the nail, holding it in place, but not actually biting through it. The way his tongue would occasionally brush up against his teeth. Especially the way his face seemed to soften, as he became lost in his own thoughts. Takeshi often wondered what Hayato was thinking, in that impressively large brain of his. Would see how his green eyes went unfocused yet sharp at the same time, his usual scowl transforming into a softer furrow. As if the most interesting and complicated puzzle was laid out, just for him.

At the moment, that puzzle was a calculus problem that Takeshi had no hope of ever solving, even if Hayato explained it to him. Which may very well be what the silverette was considering. At this point, Hayato recognized that if he tried to explain things the way that he thought about them, it would just go in one ear and out the other. Takeshi had always had a difficult time grasping the nuances of mathematics and the sciences. As much as Hayato may have tried to make sense of it for him.

Takeshi moved his legs into a more comfortable position, and rested an elbow upon the low table, supporting his chin. He was surprised the other hadn't caught him staring as of yet. Perhaps he was that absorbed. Perhaps he subconsciously deemed Takeshi 'not a threat'. He liked to think it was the latter.

Takeshi's body moved of its own accord as he watched, his hand reaching across the table to lightly grasp Hayato's wrist. He gently pulled Hayato's hand away, finally catching the others attention. He had no clue what he was doing, but it was too late to stop now. May as well dive in head first.

"What-" Hayato spat out, his wide eyed confusion turning to annoyance in a split second. Takeshi wondered if it was reflex at this point, or a carefully constructed facade each time. He caught Hayato's emerald eyes with his own chocolate brown, letting his smile drop for once. He supposed acting a bit more serious could only help his case. It worked well enough, turning Hayato's anger back into confusion.

Takeshi didn't speak just yet, never having been all too good with words. For him, actions convey one's thoughts and intentions far better than words ever could. So, he reached up with his other hand, running a finger along Hayato's bottom lip. The silverette was shocked stiff, eyes going wide before narrowing once again. Takeshi wasn't sure what to make of the reaction, but Hayato wasn't stopping him either. He traced Hayato's lips, still holding his wrist in a light grip, marveling at the softness of his skin. His lips were as soft as they looked. He wondered if they tasted as good as Hayato made them seem, always biting them. He felt more than heard the words forming on Hayato's lips.

"What do you think you're doing!?" Hayato exclaimed, his trademark scowl falling back into place. Accompanied by a blush, Takeshi noted. He let Hayato back away from his touch, but held onto his wrist with that light grip. Hayato didn't break away, interestingly. He could feel how tense the silverette was, ready to run at a moment's notice. Takeshi's gaze fell back to Hayato's hand, the thumb he had just been biting at still moist with saliva.

Looking back up, straight into Hayato's eyes, he slowly brought that thumb up to his mouth. He hesitated for the slightest second, taking in Hayato's flushed and bewildered expression, before flicking out his tongue. He watched as the silverette shuddered slightly as he brought that thumb into his mouth, sucking on it and licking it.

"What is this?" Hayato asked, his scowl firmly back in place as he swipes his hand away. "Have you finally gone off the deep end?"

Takeshi decides not to mention how Hayato's voice is a little huskier, his face still flushed with something other than anger. Doesn't mention that he knows Hayato found some inkling of pleasure in what he was just doing, but is too prideful to acknowledge it. Takeshi keeps his observations to himself, for now.

"I don't believe I have," Takeshi says, his eyes burning into Hayato's. "I was just wondering what was so great about your thumb. You're always biting at it when you're lost in thought."

"W-what kind of reason is that!?" Hayato spluttered, blush deepening.

Takeshi gave him one of his usual carefree smiles and laughed a laugh that he knew would rile the other up. Okay, so maybe he did sometimes tease Hayato, but the other looked so cute when he was angry, it was hard not to.

"Maa, maa, now I know what you taste like," he said, laughing internally at the way Hayato turned red at the implications. "Anyways, sorry I interrupted you. Did you find the solution to that problem?"

With that, the two went back to studying, although now with the occasional glance from a still flustered Hayato. Takeshi felt accomplished, even if the night came to an end and he still had only the vaguest idea of how to do the homework problems. Instead he had a pretty good idea of how Hayato felt about him, and he'd be able to use that knowledge.

( ' ^ ' )

He was doing it again. Takeshi wasn't surprised, per se, considering it was a habit of the silverette's. He did find himself having a hard time looking away from the way Hayato rolled the end of the pen between his teeth, his tongue occasionally coming forward to tap at the hard plastic before darting back. An idea suddenly came to mind, and Takeshi smirked to himself before putting on an innocent expression.

"Ne, Hayato," Takeshi said, drawing the other's attention, watching as the black pen was lowered from pink lips.

"Hmm?" Hayato hummed, still partially focused on the chemistry problem before him.

"If you want something to put in your mouth, I have something much better than a pen." Takeshi said, having to hold himself back from bursting out in laughter or smirking like Mukuro when Hayato's head snapped up, eyes wide.

"W-w-what!?" The silverette stuttered, disbelief coloring his face. Takeshi tilted his head, blinking innocently, before pulling a pack of bubblegum from his pocket and holding it up.

"Gum. If you want to chew on something other than your pen. What did you think I meant?" Maybe his smile turned a bit teasing at the last part, if only so he could enjoy seeing Hayato coughing in embarrassment and snatching the packet of gum from him with a tomato-red face.

"Tch, obviously you were talking about gum. Whatever." He muttered, taking a piece and throwing the pack back at Takeshi a bit harder than necessary.

He really enjoyed messing with the other too much, but it was so fun to tease the Storm guardian. He always had the best reactions. Plus, it gave him a better idea of what Hayato thought of him. He supposed if the first thing that came to mind when he said such an innocent statement was something perverted-because obviously the silverette had conjured up some sort of NSFW imagery-then Hayato didn't consider him strictly friend material.

Getting back to his homework, he thought of how he might push the silverette next. Maybe eventually he could get a confession out of him?

( ' ^ ' )

These studying sessions had kind of become an excuse for Takeshi to pursue Hayato, but he certainly wasn't complaining if he could improve his grades and his interpersonal relationships at the same time. Well, that, and the fact that he could experience moments like this. He was beginning to think he had a mouth fetish, the way he couldn't quite look away as Hayato slowly ate one of the popsicles they'd picked up from the corner store.

Takeshi absentmindedly licked at his own, just enough to keep it from dripping all over his hand. They sat together on the back porch taking a break from studying. One Takeshi had insisted on, as the summer heat made it difficult for him to focus-well, that and a certain explosives expert's lips. He hadn't really bought popsicles with the intention of seeing Hayato savor the cold treat slowly, but it was a nice bonus. Suddenly, Hayato seemed to become aware of Takeshi's eyes on him, and he scowled over at him.

"What?" he asked, voice a bit testy. Takeshi almost thought he saw a hint of a blush, but the fading sunlight made everything pinker. Takeshi was going to say something arbitrary and look away, but noticed a streak of red painting the corner of Hayato's lip. Feeling bold, he reached out his thumb and brushed the bit of cherry flavoring away, Hayato reeling back slightly in confusion.

"You're a messy eater, huh?" he said, bringing his thumb to his lips, his tongue poking out and lapping up the bit of flavor. Hayato scowled cutely, and Takeshi was about to turn away, when the other huffed out a laugh.

"You're not much better yourself, baseball-idiot," he said, Takeshi blinking in confusion for a moment, until a smirking Hayato grabbed the hand holding his blueberry popsicle and brought it to his mouth, where he proceeded to lick up the trail of blue that Takeshi hadn't noticed dripping down his wrist.

A shiver ran down his spine at the sensation of Hayato's tongue running against his skin. He watched, enraptured, as that pink tongue cleaned up every last bit of rebellious blue streaking down Takeshi's tanned skin. Hayato let his hand drop and promptly went back to his own popsicle, not giving Takeshi another glance. Well.

It seems player number 2 has joined the game.

( ' ^ ' )

The ensuing months were full of little moments where Takeshi and Hayato would engage in conversations chock full of double entendres, or do things that could easily be portrayed as "not quite friendly". In all honesty, it was the most fun Takeshi had had in awhile. Especially when Tsuna would only realize halfway through a conversation that the two of them were shooting innuendos back and forth. Takeshi still laughed when he remembered the time Tsuna obliviously offered up his own services when Takeshi told Hayato he had ways of helping the other "de-stress".

At the moment he was sitting on the couch in Hayato's apartment, listening to the other attempt to explain multiple derivatives. Well, he had been listening. Right now, however, he decided that he'd had enough studying for one night. It was time to play.

Starting off easy, he unzipped his jacket-Hayato's apartment was rather warm, after all-and removed it to reveal one of his t-shirts that he knew emphasized his athletic frame. This earned him a slight pause in Hayato's speech, as sea green eyes moved over his defined arm muscles for the briefest of moments. To Takeshi's pleasure, it seemed Hayato took the hint.

Not even five minutes later, Hayato was leaning much closer than necessary, correcting something Takeshi had done wrong in the process of solving one of the problems. His arm brushed up against Takeshi's as he pointed out where he'd gone wrong, the faint scent of gunpowder and cigarettes that he carried with him making Takeshi want to bury his nose in the other's neck. He had never been a fan of cigarette smoke, but now it only reminded him of the silverette. He sometimes found himself lingering around smokers in public just to feel closer to the Storm.

"Do you understand now?"

Takeshi started, not realizing Hayato had finished his explanation, the other sitting back, allowing Takeshi the space to think. He quickly refocused himself, laughing and rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes never leaving Hayato's. The game couldn't end so soon.

"Haha, yeah. I always forget the base rules. Good thing I've got you to remind me, huh?" Takeshi said, giving a little wink at the end that had Hayato blushing faintly. Takeshi would never get tired of how easy it was to make the other's pale skin flush with pink. So cute.

"Tch, you should be able to do this much yourself, baseball-idiot." Hayato said, looking up at Takeshi from under furrowed brows. Without really thinking about it, Takeshi reached a hand out and rubbed away the crease between Hayato's brows.

"You're gonna have wrinkles when you're old if you keep frowning like that." Takeshi said, his hand trailing down to Hayato's cheek, lingering there. Hayato's expression remained soft for a moment, despite Takeshi's teasing, and he wondered for the countless time what the other was thinking.

The moment ended when Hayato pulled away with a scoff and a quip about how he'll have wrinkles no matter what, doesn't matter where they come from.

The game for the day had ended, but Takeshi had the distinct sensation that neither of them really won or lost.

Well, it's not like he was keeping track.

( ' ^ ' )

He isn't entirely sure how they got here, whether it was sometime after Takeshi threw out another benign innuendo, or around the time Hayato started looking at him with something very new in his gaze.

They're laying down on Hayato's bed, study materials forgotten on the silverette's low table. Takeshi's back is pressed up against the wall in order to fit the other, Hayato's twin sized bed very much not built to hold two people. There's a few inches of air between them that may as well not be there for as close as Takeshi feels to the other. Hayato's gaze is distant, lost in thought, but Takeshi's is sharp and focused. Namely, focused on the way the silverette is rolling his supple bottom lip between his teeth.

He supposes it's only right that the game end for the very reason it began, and so he doesn't hesitate to cross that minuscule distance and gently pull Hayato's lip from between his teeth with his thumb. Hayato's eyes dart to Takeshi's, sea green meeting dark brown. Hayato doesn't resist Takeshi's light grip on his chin, his thumb tracing feather-light over his bottom lip. There's a question in Hayato's eyes, and Takeshi is more than happy to answer it.

"You know, I don't think I got a very good taste of you that first time after all."


End file.
